


Never lost in translation

by Becassine



Series: Kissing our way into the future [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Switching, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becassine/pseuds/Becassine
Summary: This is nothing more than the x-rated outtakes from When you say nothing at all.It's over 2k of porn with feelings.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kissing our way into the future [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033794
Comments: 25
Kudos: 129





	Never lost in translation

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the outtakes. Special thanks goes to K for _inspiration_ in the way of gay porn and Bec for taking a look at this for me and deeming it fit to post.

_Hush - we gotta keep quiet_

Steve’s room is dimly lit, blackout curtains and boards firmly in place so that no sliver of light escapes them. They’re stationed in London for a stay whilst they work with the SSR, trying to plan how they go after Hydra next. The city is decimated, gaping jagged holes and rubble where elegant houses used to stand. Bucky walks the streets with Steve when the two of them can, still amazed that they’re in _London_ of all places when he didn’t expect to ever leave New York City.

He’s brought back to the moment by Steve’s mouth on his throat and his hand palming Bucky’s dick over the material of his trousers, Bucky sucking in a quick breath of surprise when Steve squeezes slightly. 

He rolls his hips up in invitation, his own hands scrambling to pull Steve’s shirt and undershirt up out of his trousers so he can get his hands underneath the fabric, feel that warm skin for himself. It’s been an adjustment, to realise that _this_ is Steve now, but it has some advantages. Steve’s sex drive was up and down before, his body struggling to keep up, but now? Now he _wants_. Bucky can’t complain. Bucky will never complain even if it ends up in situations like these even if they are only one wall away from the rest of the Commandos.

“Steve,” he breathes quietly, aware that the walls in the boarding house are paper-thin. “Steve, plea-”

He doesn’t expect the kiss but it comes anyway, demanding and fierce. It’s a promise, it’s an admonition. Bucky opens up to it anyway, kissing back, arousal burning hot and fierce in his belly.

Steve gets the zip of his trousers down, the metallic hiss of it loud in the room. Bucky gasps again as Steve’s hand circles around his dick, feeling like he isn’t in control at all as Steve starts moving his hand at a pace that leaves Bucky completely overwhelmed with sensation.

He leans up to kiss Steve again, empty his noises into his mouth. His hands scrabble on the waistband of Steve’s trousers as he yanks them down, fingers not as steady as they usually are after a couple of pints. He sighs into Steve’s mouth as he gets his own fingers around Steve’s cock, hand moving in a rhythm that he knows well. It’s a rhythm born of practice, of deciphering Steve’s noises over the years.

Steve falters with his own strokes, squeezes lightly and Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head at the pressure. It won’t take long, not when they’re so desperate for each other. They don’t get much time alone anymore and Bucky would give anything to spend an afternoon in their tiny, old apartment in Brooklyn, Steve spread out on the bed for him to feast on and to take his time with.

His orgasm, when it comes, is sudden and sharp. He muffles the whine in Steve’s lips, kissing him as spills over Steve’s fingers. Steve groans into it, cockhead rubbing up against the ridge of Bucky’s hip as Bucky helps him to his own finish, a grin on his face as Steve pants hotly against his neck.

“Do you think they heard?” he asks quietly, wriggles beneath Steve as he moves his hand down, liberates his handkerchief from his trouser pocket.

Steve snorts, rolls to the side so that Bucky can clean them both up. He’ll wash it out later in the sink in the room. The bed squeaks suddenly as Steve settles on it, _loudly_ , and there’s a _thump_ on the wall. 

The two of them look at each other for a beat before they laugh, giggling like the schoolboys they haven’t been for years. 

_You’re everything_

It’s hot and humid in Bucky’s hut because he hasn’t worked out how the air conditioning works yet and he loathes being cold. It’s wild to him that he can just _control_ everything here, how an environment can adapt to him and what he wants. He’s so used to making do or having it chosen for him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, _there_....” Steve groans and this is new too. They can _do_ this now, they’re allowed. Nobody looks at them twice in Wakanda and in this hut, with the sound-proofing that Bucky doesn’t understand, they can make all the noise they want. It’s a revelation to hear all of Steve’s noises and he swivels his hips, delights in the bitten-off groan as he presses against Steve’s prostate.

“Y’look so beautiful, Stevie,” he murmurs, looks down to watch as he drives in and out of Steve. This isn’t the first time or even the second tonight, the serum’s refractory period a pleasant surprise for them both. Steve is pink and swollen, rim clenching around his dick like it needs nothing else. 

Steve’s on his front this time around, fingers clenching uselessly on a pillow as he pushes back into the thrusts. Bucky knows he’s trying not to rip it and he grins, determined to make him lose it again. “C’mon baby, give it up to me. Know you wanna,” he pants, redoubling his efforts and grinding his hips just so. Steve wails and almost tries to get away from the sensation, unable to when Bucky’s holding him down by his metal arm.

“Nuh- You… Wanna feel you come in me first,” Steve responds, voice barely more than a thick rumble. “C’mon Buck, c’mon.”

He _squeezes_ and Bucky almost whites out.

“Fucking _punk_ ,” he gasps out, feeling everything too much and too quickly to save it. He thrusts in hard, servos in his arm whirring uselessly as he empties himself into Steve. He can see the sly smirk on Steve’s face, doesn’t hesitate to flip him over once he’s pulled out and jerk him quick and rough, rubbing his thumb over the slit just the way he knows Steve likes.

It works and Steve’s spewing curse words as he comes, shuddering under Bucky. The pillow doesn’t rip but the sheet and mattress do, Steve holding onto it too tightly.

“Asshole,” Steve pants once he’s more with it, both of them ignoring it when Bucky wipes his hand off on the destroyed sheets. “We’re going to have to get another new mattress.”

Bucky shakes his head, drops down onto the bed next to Steve. “Got a bunch of them last time I was in the city,” he replies. “I’m thankful for everything Shuri’s done but I’m not asking her to make us a super-soldier mattress.”

Steve laughs, pulls Bucky in for a kiss. It’s lazy, contented but both of them know they’re far from done for the evening. They _want_ with an intensity that Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to, the serum only seeming to amplify everything and giving them the stamina to follow through on it. Bucky feels a wave of gratitude wash over him that he gets to have this, that he gets to have Steve without hiding anymore.

He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, groans when Steve’s arm tightens around him.

“We need to sleep,” he chides once they break apart, nips at Steve’s lip playfully. “Your ass isn’t going to take another round without a few hours rest.”

Steve snorts, tucks Bucky closer into his side. “I mean if you don’t have the stamina…” he trails off, laughing when Bucky pinches the underside of his bicep. 

“How does anybody think you’re nice?” Bucky grumbles and leans up for another kiss. “C’mon, sleep, Stevie.”

Steve nods, brushes a hand over Bucky’s hair fondly and rubs over that spot that makes Bucky sigh happily. He doesn’t turn into a puddle of goo but it’s a close thing. “Whatever you want, Buck.”

_Come back to me_

It’s dark in the hotel room, the space barely lit by the neon signs filtering through the cheap curtains. Steve’s on a mission as Nomad, Bucky definitely _shouldn’t_ be there when Ross is yelling about the Accords again but Bucky’s about as bad as Steve at doing what he’s told. Besides that, T’Challa had to do business nearby and offered him a ride so it seemed like a no-brainer. 

It’s been a month since he’s seen Steve.

It’s been the longest fucking month of his life.

It was different in the war; back then he had to focus on not getting blown up so that he could go back and see Steve. In Wakanda the days pass easily, slowly, with little excitement. Bucky never thought he’d miss chaos and fighting but then again, Steve’s been in his life since he can remember and life with him has rarely been calm.

He’s up against the wall, Steve a solid line of heat against his front as he holds him there. Bucky’s legs are tight around his waist and his head is back, gasping for air as Steve fucks him open with his fingers, staring down at him with eyes that are nearly black with want.

“Steve- _Steve_ ,” he chokes out, trying to keep it down. He knows Natasha and Sam are around somewhere, doesn’t doubt that Natasha at least knows he’s here. He taught her everything he knew and it seemed that she picked up enough tricks of her own.

“I’ve got you,” Steve replies, curling his fingers just so and smiling as Bucky shakes, a fierce rush of pleasure jangling up his spine. “Couldn’t wait until I get home, huh?”

Bucky scowls, or tries to, but it’s hard when Steve is rubbing his index finger over his prostate in a way that makes him feel dizzy. He gasps, “It’s been a fucking month, Rogers.”

“Thirty four days,” Steve corrects, confirming Bucky’s suspicions that it’s not just him counting. “Thirty four days since I’ve heard those pretty noises of yours.”

“Too goddamn long,” Bucky snarls, closes the distance to kiss Steve with everything he has. It’s messy, desperate and Bucky knows he’s asking a lot of Steve to stay upright with Bucky riding him so hard but he doesn’t care. He wants Steve. He wants _all_ of Steve. Now. He’s shaking when he pulls back, his own aggression matched by Steve’s who is all fight when he’s this riled up. “Fuck me, baby, gotta have you in me.”

He’s prepared for this, spent an hour prepping in his own hotel room for this little surprise reunion so that the two of them could just enjoy it. Bucky knows how much Steve likes fingering him before fucking him, likes to get Bucky begging for it and even though he didn’t need the prep this time, Bucky indulged him anyway. He always indulges Steve. 

“Bed-” Steve tenses to pick him up and move him but Bucky shakes his head fast.

“Here,” he decides, reaches under himself to attack the fastenings on Steve’s jeans and thanks god he isn’t in the suit. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like it, he _does_ but it’s a bitch to get in and out of. “I want it.”

Steve groans, removes his fingers and wipes the slick on his cock before pushing in, half-lowering Bucky onto his cock.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Bucky pants heavily, grips onto Steve’s biceps as he drives home. “Yeah, Stevie. That’s where I need you.”

_Again_

It’s a sleepy Sunday in Brooklyn but there’s no sleeping going on in the Barnes-Rogers household. Bucky’s not one for getting up early but with the right incentive he’ll consider it. The right incentive being one Steven Grant Barnes-Rogers rimming him open and fucking him dumb.

He groans and tugs at his balls, tries to stop the inevitable but he shakes through his orgasm, Steve cooing sweet things in his ear as he does. 

He’s jolted up the bed slightly as Steve speeds up, hips pistoning as he chases his own finish and he puts an arm out, presses against the frame so he’s not knocked into it. Steve grunts as he comes, falls to the side so he doesn’t crush Bucky and grins at him.

“You’re way too pleased with yourself for this early in the morning,” Bucky complains, covers Steve’s smug face with his palm. Steve laughs and knocks it away after he’s kissed it, eases himself out of Bucky and slides a finger inside instead. He’s just playing, petting, but Bucky flushes red knowing that he’s a mess of come and slick already.

“Can’t help it. I get to put that look on your face,” he replies and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Sap,” he replies, expects it when Steve chuckles and presses in for a kiss. They both have morning breath so it should be gross but Bucky’s had worse in his mouth. Steve’s cooking attempts when they were teenagers for a start.

Steve’s lips get more insistent and Bucky responds in kind, the kiss grows more heated and Bucky sighs softly as Steve presses a finger into him, dick giving an interested twitch. “Stevie.”

“Buck,” Steve sing-songs back, already flushing pink with arousal as he stares at him. Bucky feels a swell of adoration as he looks back. It still astounds him that they’re here. 

“Up,” he says, reaching to slap Steve’s ass and revelling in the shocked _oh_. “We’re not doing this until we’ve brushed our teeth. We’re not heathens.”

Steve snickers and removes his finger, helps haul Bucky to his feet. Bucky feels a mixture of come and slick leaking out of him but doesn’t blush, instead intentionally walks ahead of Steve so that he can see the mess he’s made of him. “Maybe you can help wash me up?”

Steve is quick to follow.


End file.
